Never Gonna Tell (24 page)

I scramble to my feet, slipping on a few wet leaves and wincing at the jarring movement. “Oh my God. He’s alive? Really?”

Charlie nods. He makes a vain attempt to shake off the dirt that’s now caked on his knees and points toward the cabin. “What are you waiting for, girl?”

His words spur me into action. I rush toward the ranger and detective to where they’re kneeling by the ATVs, ignoring the pain shooting through my body. “Marco!” Dried blood is caked on Marco’s face, his eyes swollen and face battered. His shirt is torn and deep purple bruises cover his stomach and chest. Reaching out, I grab his limp hand, squeezing it tight in my own.

“You’re going to be okay, Marco.” I lean in, whispering in his ear. “Just hang on. Be the fighter I know you are.”

“We need to go now, Reagan,” the detective announces as he tightens the final safety clip. “Let’s go, people. We don’t have time to waste.”

I peel my eyes away from Marco. “And his dad?”

The detective lowers his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

My eyes slide shut as I sigh. “Me, too.” My attention returns to Marco. I squeeze his hand one final time as I bend and kiss his forehead. “Fight.”

His fingers tighten on mine. The movement is barely discernable, but it’s there. He hears me. My heart swells, and I tighten my grip before he’s pulled away by the ranger and detective as they load him onto the back of the rescue ATV.

The trek back to the ranger station seems to take three times longer than the trip up. I can’t stop glancing behind me, checking on Marco as we traverse over bumps and around obstacles, fearful that he’ll get further injured or worse—fall off and roll down the hill or something. I know I’m being silly, but I thought I lost him already, and I refuse to let it happen again.

The whirl of a helicopter above lets me know we’re getting close. The treetops sway as the blades hover above, my hair whipping around my face. Several police cars have already arrived at the ranger station, the lights on their patrol cars visible through the trees. I guess it was inevitable with so many casualties, but as we approach I still glare at each of them long and hard, like I’ll somehow be able to know who the mole in the department is if I stare hard enough. It’s more important than ever to find the mole now. I can’t risk them running back to tell Nicky that Marco is still alive.

There’s a flurry of action as we finally stop. EMS workers and flight nurses rush to Marco while several police officers are pulling out maps and getting details from Detective Rathborne. Mom is already on the phone with someone discussing warrants. I ignore all of them and hobble over to the helicopter where the paramedics are loading Marco, holding my sore ribs.

“I’m coming with him.” I reach my hand forward, grabbing the rail and pulling myself up into the helicopter with an oomph. The adrenaline that once churned through my bloodstream is now down to a trickle, and my body is reminding me just how sore it is. My entire body aches like I simultaneously ran a marathon while going three rounds with a UFC fighter. I haven’t done a great job of “taking it easy” like I promised.

“Charlie and I will follow in the car.” Dad hands me a helmet before kissing my forehead. “They’ll take good care of him, Reagan. The best thing you can do now is just be there for him.”

I lean into him, the smell of his musky cologne comforting. “Thank you, Daddy. For everything.”

He nods and backs away as one of the flight nurses starts to close the door.

“Are you family?” a paramedic asks me, starting an IV in Marco’s arm.

Realization hits with his words. “He doesn’t have much family left, no one close, anyway. I don’t want him to be alone when he wakes up.” When. Not if. He will wake up.

The helicopter pilot turns his attentions to me. “You don’t look so hot yourself there, miss.” He pauses before closing the door and feels my forehead, taking my pulse with the other hand.

I shake my head. “I’m fine. Don’t worry about me. Just make sure he’ll be okay.”

“Elias here is doing just that,” the pilot assures me, flipping switches from the cockpit and strapping himself in.

Before I can even ask how long before we get to the hospital, the pilot pulls up on the joystick, and we’re airborne. My stomach knots as I watch the ground shrink below us. I need a distraction before I throw up all over the place. I turn to the flight nurse, Elias, and smile.

He never stops what he’s doing and begins asking me questions. “Do you know what happened? The doctors will want as many details as possible to properly treat him.”

I hesitate. I don’t really want to remember details from the worst day of my life, but if it’ll help Marco I’ll reenact the whole thing with a PowerPoint presentation and make a diorama depicting the scene. “We were in a car accident. Well, I guess it can’t really be called an accident if someone runs you off the road. Our car flipped at least once. Maybe twice. We fell down an embankment before landing upside down.” I pause, shuddering as the details come flooding back. “I’m sorry, I can’t remember much more. I passed out. I don’t believe he sustained any new injuries while he was held in that cabin.”

Elias nods. “That’s okay. How long ago was the car accident?”

“That was almost five days ago and he never received medical attention.”

His eyes widen, shocked as he takes in my injuries with a knowing look. “Wait. You were in the accident with him?”

“Yes, but I escaped mostly unscathed.”

He offers a half-smile. “Lucky girl.”

I look down at Marco. “Only because of him.”

The rest of the flight to the hospital is quiet. Elias is focused on tending Marco and pays no mind to me. The white noise of the helicopter’s blades moving through the air is hypnotic. My eyelids are heavy, and I struggle to keep them open. Truth be told, I’m exhausted and just want to curl up on the stretcher with Marco and sleep for a year with him holding me in his arms.

Somewhere along the lines, I lose the battle. My eyes drift shut, and I must have dozed off because the next thing I know we’re coming to a stop, and there are doctors everywhere, bustling around as Marco is pulled from the helicopter and rushed into the emergency room.

The pilot hangs back. “I think you should get checked out, too. You’re not looking so hot.”

I want to protest, but I’m utterly exhausted, beyond sore, and know he’s right. It’s hard to breathe again and I’m afraid I may have done even more damage to my newly healed lung. I nod and allow him to place me in a wheelchair. “My dad should be in the car right behind us and will be here soon. Can you tell him where I am when he arrives?”

“You got it.”

He wheels me into the emergency room, pausing at the nurses’ station to see where he should put me. There’re several people gathered in one room, all yelling directions and rushing around. A nurse pulls the curtain closed, cutting off my view, but I’m pretty sure it’s Marco.

“Can I stay next door to him? I want to be close by in case he wakes up,” I tell the nurse. “He will wake up, won’t he?”

Her smile is kind as she brushes the stray hair out of my eyes. “We’re taking very good care of him. I heard about his father. Poor thing.” I simply nod as she wheels me into the adjoining room and shuts the door behind her, handing me a gown to change into. I slip out of my jeans and tee shirt before donning the awful gown and crawling into the bed. The nurse rolls my sleeve up, tapping on the taut skin of my arm to try to find a vein. “Does he have any other family in the area?”

I wince as a needle pierces my already bruised skin. “His great aunt lives nearby and his grandfather isn’t too far away, but I don’t know how to contact him.”

“What about his mother?” She places a blood pressure cuff on the opposite arm.

I wait for it to finish squeezing my arm before responding. “She’s not in the picture.”

She gives a sympathetic nod as she sticks a thermometer in my mouth. “Your temperature is back up, and the cut on your arm doesn’t look so good. You may have contracted an infection. I’m going to have the doctor order some antibiotics. You need to rest now and let your body heal.”

Not giving me a chance to argue, she lowers the bed to a laying position and turns off the florescent light above my head. I lean up on my elbows, my lids drooping. “Will you let me know if Marco wakes up? I don’t want him to be alone.”

“The doctors are working on him. He’ll most likely need to be taken to radiology and will be out of it for a while. There’s nothing you can do right now, so just rest. I’ll keep your family abreast of any updates on his condition once they arrive, but you, missy, need to sleep. The faster you heal, the faster you can get out of here.” She gives me the “mom” glare. I relent and lay my head back down.

My eyes shut even before my head hits the pillow.

When I finally open my eyes again, I don’t know how much time has passed. The lights in the room are still dimmed, but the glow from Charlie’s cell phone fills the room with just enough light for me to see. His face glows as he stares down at the screen.

My mouth is dry and in desperate need of water. I clear my throat, catching Charlie’s attention. “How long was I out?”

Charlie sets his cell phone on his lap. “Hey! How are you feeling?”

“Not so hot,” I answer honestly.

The chair scuffs loudly as he scoots a bit closer to me and checks his phone again. “You’ve been out for about three hours. The nurse said you got an infection, and that’s causing your fever. It’s pretty bad, Rea. You really shouldn’t have left the hospital in the first place.”

No wonder my arm has been so sore. But I don’t regret it. I couldn’t just leave Marco up there. If we’d waited any longer he wouldn’t have made it out alive. I blink away the thought. I can’t even go there. “Any word on Marco?”

“The doctors confirmed his spleen was punctured, and that was causing his internal bleeding. They have him in surgery to remove it now.” He slides his cell into his shirt pocket and stands. “I’m going to go grab your dad. Your mom is stuck at the police station dealing with the cops about this whole mess. She’s insisting on interviewing a few officers before they’re sent here to guard your door, especially with Nicky still out there.”

I chuckle. “I’m surprised she hasn’t just hired a private security firm or the Secret Service or something already.”

Charlie rolls his eyes. “Don’t give her any ideas.”

“My dad’s here though?”

“Yeah, he was just grabbing some more coffee in the cafeteria. I’ll go tell him you’re awake. You’ll be okay for a few minutes?”

I point to my nurse call button. “I’ll be fine.”

He leans over and kisses my forehead before heading out, closing the door behind him. Left alone, I push the control on the bed until I’m in a sitting position. I am about to call for the nurse when the door swings open, and two uniformed officers I’ve never seen before stand in the doorway. Both of the men are stocky, their uniforms ill-fitting. It’s an odd look and sets me on edge. The taller of the two glances behind him and shuts the door before addressing me.

“Hi, Reagan. I’m Officer Galloway. This is Officer Soldevilla. We have a few questions regarding what happened to you and Mr. Calotta.” He tries to smile, but it’s forced and comes out as more of a yellow-toothed snarl.

The duo saunters closer, standing on either side of my bed like a “good cop, bad cop” scenario. Officer Soldevilla folds his thick arms over his chest as he hovers over me, never saying a word. The other man—Galloway—takes out a piece of paper like he’s going to take notes, but he has no pen. He keeps sniffing and his eyes are glassy, making me wonder if he’s high on something. An uneasy vibe shivers down my back and settles in my gut. Something’s not right.

“Um, I think we should wait until my dad gets back. He just went to get coffee.”

Officer Galloway reaches out and grabs the nurse call button from my hand, placing it on a counter far out of my reach before swiping the two pain pills on the tray and popping them back like Pez. “Oh, there’re just a few questions. It won’t take but a minute.”

They’re giving me the heeby-jeebies just looking at me with their beady eyes, and the hairs on the back of my neck rise.

Soldevilla pulls a wheelchair out that had been stored behind my bed. “You look a little flushed, dear. Why don’t we go and meet him in the cafeteria? Get you some fresh air? I bet that will make you feel better.” The word “dear” sounds strangely threatening coming from his thick lips.

No, being far away from these two will make me feel better. My eyes dart around the room, looking for my cell phone, but it’s nowhere in sight. “I’d rather wait.”

They ignore me. “Here, we’ll help you into the chair.” Officer Galloway grabs me around the arm, his dirty fingernails digging into my tender skin.

“Ow! Let go.” I yank my arm back, but his grip only tightens.

“Now, Reagan, be a good girl. I’d hate to see you get further injured.” His hand slides to his hip, fingers brushing the grip on his gun. A gun that looks very much not police issued. “Or have anyone else get hurt, like that nice boy who just left, for example.”

I swallow hard and shake my head.

“Good. Now get in the chair. You’re coming with us.”